The holiday season is always a bit tricky when it comes to blog posts. I generally take the week off between Christmas and New Years, so next week will be another Open Mic, available for whatever people want to discuss (or just for exchanging holiday wishes). I’ll restart the regular Open Mic schedule on the first of January. That means this is my last actual post for 2023.

At the suggestion of a friend, whose Yuletide fanfic I am currently beta-ing, I’m going to talk about do’s and don’ts for beta readers.

The first thing to be aware of is that language changes. Specifically, the term “beta reader” has changed, from being the last-minute punctuation-and-typesetting check a week or two prior to books shipping out, to being more like the “beta testers” for software, who are supposed to use the program/app/game once there is a stable version, to find out what the bugs are. There are still some people who imprinted on the original meaning and who feel strongly about it. If you happen to run into one of them, ask what terminology they prefer and use that. It doesn’t actually change the job.

What does change the job is the writer and the writer’s needs and wants. I have, at different times, beta-read stories for two different writers who have some degree of dyslexia. One of them absolutely wants their spelling, syntax, and punctuation corrected; homonyms, malapropisms, and questionable word choices flagged; and typos marked. The other emphatically does not want any of that—they are of the opinion that those things should be corrected in the penultimate draft, when there won’t be a lot of major changes that are likely to add a bunch of new typos and spelling errors. I adjust my comments accordingly; doing anything else would mess up the established systems and processes that work for them.

Here’s my overall list:

Before agreeing to be a beta reader, DO:

  1. Ask the writer what they want from this critique.
    This can range from the apocryphal “five pages of closely reasoned praise” to specific attention on a particular area of their writing (dialog, description, continuity, etc.) or of your expertise (“You work in a lab; so does my main character. Did I get the research stuff right?”)
  1. Ask if the writer only wants problem areas flagged, or whether they want suggestions for corrections.
    Some writers are fine with suggestions for plot twists, character development, style changes, etc.; others are insulted by them. Asking first can head off arguments.
  1. Tell the writer if you don’t think you’re the audience.
    If you’ve never read the genre (and especially if you’ve read some and hated it), if you find first-person hard to read or hate books written in present tense, if you know (or suspect) that something in the plot will trigger a strong reaction unrelated to the story…warn the author ahead of time. Maybe they’re looking for a reader like that. If not, they’ll know to take your reaction into consideration when deciding which of your comments to take on board and which not to.
  1. Ask when the writer needs your comments back and why.
    Sometimes the writer has a hard deadline—the story is due on the 15th, and they need time to fix whatever issues you turn up. Sometimes the writer is just antsy (Ok, writers are nearly always antsy about getting comments, but I’m talking about when there’s no outside deadline involved.)

When doing the read-through, DO:

  1. Take notes, especially in the first read-through.
    Even if it’s a short-story manuscript, you probably won’t remember everything you noticed and/or reacted to. If you only have time/energy for one read-through, it is especially important to capture as much as you can. Use whatever makes it easy—the “comments” feature in a word-processor, a notepad, Post-It notes on a print-out, whatever works for you.
  2. Be as specific as you can, whether you are praising something or pointing out a problem. “I loved/hated this story/character” is not specific. “I love the way you phrased this sentence” and “This is the third time this character has ignored the protagonist’s opinion, and I’m starting to hate him” are specific.
  3. Provide your reactions as a reader. It is more use to me, as a writer, to see “LOL, no really” next to a single line of dialog that I’d hoped was funny than it is to see “This scene was funny” at the space break. Other useful comments include “I started skimming right here” “I have no comments on the last 3 pages because I was so into the scene” “This bit confused me” “Right here, I noticed that Benjamin has disappeared from the scene” and “I was totally confused by this paragraph. Is Rachel purple, or is it the cake?”
  4. Be sure to mention things you particularly like, even if they are small. A touching or funny line can sometimes disappear in the rewrite if the writer is unaware that one or more of their readers liked it enough to mention. On the macro side, knowing that a beta-reader particularly likes one’s dialog (or description, or…) can be both reassuring and helpful when working on revisions.
  5. If possible, do a second read-through, with more notes (and mark them as second-read-through).
    The second read-through is usually where I can really dig into what parts of the manuscript worked for me and what didn’t. All the same do’s apply—be specific, provide reactions, be sure to mention the good stuff—but it’s easier (for me) to look in-depth at continuity, characterizations, contradictions, and so on, when I already know where things are going.

Don’t. Just don’t:

  1. Don’t expect pay. Unless you’ve been hired by a publisher, this isn’t a for-pay gig. Some writers will mention beta readers in the acknowledgements if and when the book is published; some will provide a free copy of the published work to their beta readers—but neither of those things is required.
  2. Don’t miss a hard deadline (see above), and don’t take forever if there isn’t a hard deadline.
  3. Don’t try to remake the book into what you’d have written, even if the writer asked for suggestions.
  4. Don’t be upset if the writer doesn’t follow your suggestions or fix the things you thought didn’t work. It’s their book. On the other hand, if you feel as if there was no point to doing the work because the writer didn’t like it, you can decline politely the next time that writer asks you to beta.
12 Comments
  1. I’ve been considering writing a yt treat if the work-related chaos would slow down a bit. I find it oddly delightful you’re doing a beta for it.

    Good pointers!

  2. This is something every potential beta reader needs to read! This is a way more clear and concise set of directions for betas than I’ve found anywhere else on the Internet. Thank you!

  3. This is also useful to the writer who’s going to ask for some beta readers. My old critique group slowly went to almost all middle grade fiction or younger, and I haven’t found a new one. I’ll be self-publishing, and I really want some feedback before I do.

  4. Prioritize big issues. If the first half and the second half don’t actually belong together, the scenes that drag on after the obvious point of ending are not important.

    Also, remember that if you criticize grammar, you can get it wrong. In particular, “passive voice” is not appropriate just because something is not happening in a scene, and “run-on sentence” does not mean that it’s long.

    • Sometimes it’s better to describe your reaction rather than trying to diagnose why.

      “This sentence confuses me.”

      “I got lost here and had to go back and re-read.”

      “Whose point of view is this? I can’t tell.”

      “This sentence went on way too long for me.”

      • Yes, it really helps to phrase it as other problems.

  5. I still remember, because they were so useless and made me so angry, the two critiques that boiled down to “I don’t like your decision to write this story. Write a completely different one.”

    • Oh, yes. I remember one like that. . . with the additional advice to open with a prologue giving a potted history of the world and throwing in a few disasters like plagues. . . .

      • Eurgh! Who would *do* that? Don’t we authors have fragile enough egos and beat ourselves up enough as it is?

        I think if I were a beta reader in that situation, I would do as one of my beta readers did for me and say, “I don’t think I’m the right person to beta-read this story, but thanks for trusting me enough to ask/send it to me!”

        • One problem with writers’ group is that all the others are writers. It helps them with some things, harms with others.

          One thing you get is the one who think your story should be fixed to be what he would write. This is especially awful when he’s not very good.

          So, non-writer beta readers can be good, sometimes.

  6. The one thing I’d add is, Make sure to distinguish plausibility from realism.

    The one creative writing class I took, I got critiques from the class like “A woman can’t win a fight with a guy.” (This was years ago…but feminism was still a thing.) I was so pissed off I never took another class. The nerve.

    Now, looking back, I can see where they went wrong. They critiqued as if they, not I, were the Ultimate Authorities on Reality. None of us are, of course.

    If they’d said, “I didn’t see the girl beating the guy as plausible,” then I’d have had something constructive to work on. I could have tried to write the scene differently, and maybe sold it to a bunch of skeptics. But, sadly, no.

    • After getting enough feedback, you learn to extract the latter from the former and also identify when it’s just a case of not my cuppa, which teaches you audience types. Then all feedback becomes useful.